WHAT? THERE'S A `DELETE' BUTTON?: Our campaign to capture the easy-as-pie District 5 council seat has run into a spot of trouble, thanks to this whole Gen. David Petraeus email snafu.

Last summer we sent the following text to a woman named W.:

"Since you'll be in Costa Rica next week, is it cool if I invite Veronica out for coffee?"

Another, this one sent from San Clemente to the same woman. Again with the coffee: "I'm having random and unprotected coffee with a local anonymous girl."

Here's a text sent to us from a woman named B.: "You love M.? I'm not speaking to you." We replied: "It didn't mean anything."

You can see how any of these messages might be taken out of context. You can see how the press and our opposition could have a field day with this stuff. You can see how this could, with people having the sort of weird thoughts that people sometimes have, kill our campaign a-borning.

"Bring the monkey," we once texted a woman.

We don't even recall what we meant by that, but it can't do us any good if that text got out to the public.

We don't recall to whom "I look great in shorts!" was sent, but it was probably one of our many women friends to whom we're not married. Happily, we're fairly certain we didn't send her a picture of us in shorts, because a picture of us in shorts would have flown in the face of what we wrote in the text.

Some of our texts, which we've acquired through the Freedom of Information Act and WikiLeaks, are painfully frank confessions that portray a tortured and often troubled person:

"I had granola bar and three of those little booze-filled chocolate bottles for lunch."

"You can't kill yourself just by holding your breath. I just tried."

We want to get all of this out now, so we can concentrate on the real issues in our campaign for the City Council, chief of which is the question of how can we make that job even easier?

TEXAS GOES EX-US?: Wait. Texas wants to secede from the United States of America? The whole state? With all the Texans in it? That reminds us of a joke that we'll have to retool for our purposes.

A Californian and a Texan are walking along the beach when they stumble upon a lamp. The Texan picks it up.

"Rub the lamp," says the Californian, because the Texan couldn't pour water out of a boot if the instructions were printed on the heel.

The Texan rubs the lamp and, because this is a joke, a genie pops out. The genie says, "Thanks, fellas. For your reward, I will give each of you one wish."

Texan goes, "I'm tired of the United States and its socialist/Kenyan president. I want Texas to be a separate state."

Genie says, "Done," and turns to the Californian.

"It's already done? Texas is no longer part of the United States?" asks the dumbfounded Californian.

"That's right," says the genie.

"And the Texans are all going to stay there?"

"Yep. What is your wish?"

Californian says, "I guess I'll just have a Diet Coke."

MAIL BAG: Great news! We got new phones in our sprawling suite of offices high up on the first floor of the Arco/Molina Towers. Turns out the message system works. Here's our inaugural message from an anonymous woman caller on our new and fancy phone:

"You're a fat old liberal, and why didn't you write about despair and grief in the right wing? And I need to correct you: It's not just despair and grief; we're sad and disappointed. And there certainly wasn't a mandate. And of course I'm sure you felt a thrill go up your leg - not a pretty sight. I dare you to handle this issue in one of your columns, but I'm sure you won't."

Not a pretty sight? We look great in shorts!

Certainly not a mandate? Certainly a mandate! Just a few days before the election we were helping our daughter with her high school government homework and we went over the part about how the central idea of a democracy is the authority the citizens in a democracy grant to act as their representative. In a democracy, when you win an election, you are given a mandate - the authority - to govern. Dang, we're not going to get in an argument over this, are we?

Otherwise, we'll grant you fat, liberal and a chickening out on your dare to write about the despair, grief, sadness and disappointment of the right wing.

We know how you feel. We've been there but, as we learned four years ago and again last week, eventually, things get better.